


to be broken and still love

by avid_author_activist



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:33:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22368763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avid_author_activist/pseuds/avid_author_activist
Summary: Will is determined to not saddle Alyss with a relationship after what happened during and after the war.We've all read enough fanfiction to know what happens next.
Relationships: Halt O'Carrick & Will Treaty, Will Treaty/Alyss Mainwaring
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	to be broken and still love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheButterflyRanger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheButterflyRanger/gifts).



The inn overflowed with light and chatter, the smell of roasting food and stale sweat. Warm yellow light spilled out of the crack in the door and into the street. Will sat just outside with his back against the wall, looking out towards the blue-orange sky studded with indigo clouds and pale stars.

“You were right. It _is_ much freer out here,” Alyss said, sitting with knees drawn up to her chest. Her presence at his side was warm, and Will fought the urge to lean closer. “But won’t Jenny begrudge sending her food outside?”

“She’ll make an exception for old friends,” said Will. His picnics outside the Heaped Platter had become something of a regular occurrence. The crowded insides of taverns were too much for him, so he’d taken up the habit of sitting outside.

A summer breeze gusted over them, and Will drew his cloak tighter around himself, afraid of the cold. Again he became very aware of Alyss next to him, but he was afraid to lean against her, not wanting to cross a line.

Their makeshift picnic blanket was an old cloak in the dirt, from which they were afforded a good view of the turrets of Castle Redmont in the distance. They sat side by side, his knee brushing her arm, their legs just touching. It reminded him of their shared childhood in the Ward, just a short three years ago.

But, Will thought bitterly, quite a lot had happened in those three years; their apprenticeships had started, and so had the war, and then _Skandia_ had happened.

When they were sixteen, before he’d left on the fateful mission to Celtica, Will and Alyss had thought there might be something between them. But the year or so after Morgarath’s defeat—the long, cold months of captivity—had changed things.

Will wasn’t about to burden Alyss with anything more than a friendship when he was still healing, still trying to put his broken pieces back together. Today was a good day for him mentally, and still he struggled to keep the darkness from his mind, to keep from shutting himself away from the world until everything felt alright again.

Alyss helped with that. She never pried or asked, but if Will brought it up, she was willing to listen. And that was enough, or so he told himself.

“Here you are, sir and miss.” Jenny pushed open the door with her shoulder, balancing a plate in each hand. “Since you insist on privacy,” she said with a wink, and set the food down on their makeshift picnic blanket.

“We’re not—” Alyss began, but Jenny only raised an eyebrow and shut the door.

“No, we’re not,” Will agreed, but even as he said the words, there was a nagging doubt in the back of his head. He pushed it away and distracted himself by tucking into the dinner. Tonight’s special at the Heaped Platter was fish, salmon caught from the Tarbus River, fried in butter and seasoned with garlic and lemon juice. It was delightfully crispy on the outside, but the fish itself was tender. Will closed his eyes briefly as he took a second bite.

“This is art,” Alyss proclaimed.

“Miss Jenny’s symphony of _fish_ ,” he returned, and they both smiled over the shared memory of their first Harvest Day as apprentices.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as they ate, shovelling fish and sautéed vegetables into their mouths.

The last bits of purple were fading to navy when Will sat back, wiping his mouth on the hem of his cloak.

Alyss swatted at his hand with a mock look of disgust. “Halt would be–”

“Very approving. Halt would be very approving,” Will said mildly. “He says we Rangers ought to scorn table manners whenever possible.”

Alyss muttered something that sounded like “But not with Lady Pauline” under her breath. Will privately agreed, though he’d never admit it aloud.

“Fine,” she continued in a normal tone of voice. “What about Mistress Aggie, then? Didn’t she teach you any better?”

Will remembered their well-meaning but overbearing matron from the Ward. He could barely recall her face, and felt a pang of some emotion he couldn’t identify. “Well, I would hate to disappoint Mistress Aggie,” he said, trying to summon the same tone of sarcasm that Halt often used. Judging on the look Alyss gave him, it didn’t work.

Their gazes held a little too long. Will was the first to look away, feeling his cheeks flush red.

He knew how Alyss felt about him. She’d been very clear about her emotions, but had agreed to give him space until they were both ready.

Will wanted to wait, _wait_ until she realized that being with him was a terrible decision and fell for someone else. His life as a Ranger was too dangerous for her to tie herself to him like that; they would both travel and be assigned to different fiefs after graduation anyway; he was too broken, too shattered, too inadequate.

She deserved someone better than him.

Alyss opened her mouth slightly and then shut it again. She never pushed, never rushed him, had always been a constant in the suddenly-too-fast world Will had been confronted with after Skandia. He felt a sudden burst of warmth for her.

“So…” He cast about for another topic, trying to fill the silence. “When do you leave on your mission?”

“Tomorrow at sun-up,” Alyss said. “I might reach Castle Eisel by twilight, if I can find a passable ford on the Salmon River in time.”

Will nodded. “The Salmon does tend to rise this time of year. I can’t come see you off,” he added apologetically. “Halt’s making me learn how to brew proper coffee this week, and I have to get firewood in the mornings.”

“Some friend you are.” She bumped him on the shoulder. “You haven’t had a single mission where _I_ haven’t come to see you off.”

“I haven’t had a single mission since I got back, period,” Will said quietly. “I just—can’t.”

The playfulness faded from Alyss’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

Her pained expression made Will want to draw back even further. She shouldn’t have to coddle him. She deserved someone to laugh with and be happy with.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” he said hastily, but Alyss was decidedly not fooled.

“If you need _anything_ —” Her breath hitched—“anything at all, please let me give it to you. The world knows you deserve to be happy, Will. Let me help. Let me _in_.” She moved her hand closer to his, hovering. Giving him the option to draw away.

Will stayed where he was, his mind busy replaying her words, fixated on them like a candle in the dark.

Alyss placed her hand over his. The warmth bled through him, a shield against the chilly summer night.

_The world knows you deserve to be happy._

If only it were that simple.

->>\-->

Halt added his fourth spoonful of honey to the mug, noticeably trying to hide a grimace.

“That bad?” Will muttered.

“No,” his mentor said, but something in his voice made Will raise an eyebrow.

“Okay, yes,” Halt admitted. “Maybe it’s still a little weak. But it’s getting there. We’ll have you making Ranger-standard coffee in no time.”

Will snorted. “Gee, thanks.”

But somehow, the criticism didn’t cut as badly as it usually did, and the cloudless sky overhead raised his spirits. Two sparrows called to each other from an oak tree nearby, the sun warmed his face, and he felt something lift in his chest. Maybe he was going to have two good days in a row.

This often happened after his talks with Alyss, no matter how inconsequential they were. Something about her grounded him in a way his other friends couldn’t. Will held the memory of last night close, a talisman against the hurricane that was his brain.

_Birdsong against a dark purple sky. His back pressed against the wall and his shoulder pressed against Alyss’s as they watched the stars, the village road. Each other._

“Something on your mind?” Halt prompted, his dark eyes intent on Will’s. Back in the early days of his apprenticeship, the scrutiny would make him nervous. Now, knowing Halt was looking after him made him feel safe—one of the few things that did.

“Just—Alyss,” he said. “She’s on a solo mission to Eisel fief right now, and I’m wondering how she’s doing.”

Halt raised an eyebrow that made Will’s cheeks flame red. “You know how I feel about her,” he protested. “She’s just—a friend.”

Thankfully, his mentor didn’t push, instead changing the subject. “I have to sit through two meetings with the Baron and his department heads today, and Pauline wants to go for lunch. Will you be alright on your own?”

Will hesitated. If he said no, Halt would cancel everything to stay with him without a second thought, do his best to protect Will against the trauma. But he knew how much his mentor wanted to spend time with Lady Pauline. “I think I’ll be okay.”

“Good. Maybe brush up on target practice if you’re feeling up to it.” Halt drained his cup and stood, pushing his chair back. “Or take Tug out for a ride. He’s been cooped up long enough. You sure you’ll be okay?”

Will’s gaze landed on the sparrows again, ruffling their feathers in the branches. The world was full of life, and the dark thoughts and flashbacks were far away.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah, I think I will be.”

->>\-->

He started by cleaning the cabin. This was helpful for two reasons: one, it kept his mind from wandering through less pleasant memories, and two, it reminded Will of his first day as Halt’s apprentice. He hadn’t realized it at the time, but he’d been very lucky indeed.

Will swept the floor, beat the rug with a stick, and rearranged the furniture in the living room before the lure of the outdoors dragged him outside.

He stood ankle deep in the grass, his boots lying forgotten on the verandah, and dug his toes into the cool earth. The sun shone overhead, thawing the cold from his bones and the numbness from his mind.

A sudden feeling of contentedness rose within him like a bubble, and he hardly dared breathe for fear of blowing it away.

_It was going to be okay._

Suddenly wanting to share this day with someone, Will tugged on his boots and jogged towards the stable, searching in his pockets for an apple but coming up short. “Tug!” he cried, greeting his horse. “How’ve you been?”

_I could ask you the same thing_. Tug snorted, nuzzling at his master. _Good day?_ His horse was better at discerning his moods than any human Will had ever met.

“Seems like it,” he said, his face stretched in a smile. It felt like an alien expression, but a good one. Will smiled again, wider this time, as if rediscovering how it felt. It made his cheeks sore.

_Doing facial acrobatics today, are we?_ The little horse cocked his head to the side, regarding him with those big brown eyes.

Will ignored the remark and hefted his saddle onto Tug’s back, tightening the girth straps. “Let’s go for a ride. It’s a good day for it, and if we see a deer, we can take it. Halt will be glad for fresh meat at home, and we can give the rest to Jenny.”

There had been a time where Will had felt self-conscious talking to Tug, even when no one else was present. Talking to an animal instead of a human felt strangely private, like he was baring a part of himself that people never got to see. His horse saw straight past the face he put on for society, but Will had since decided that this was a comforting fact and not an unnerving one.

He swung himself into the saddle, and Tug accelerated into a smooth canter. This was the Rangers’ accustomed march pace, and Will fell easily into the familiar rhythm. The wind ruffled his hair, keeping him cool even though the morning mist was already burning away.

“Let’s work on some of your commands, alright?” he asked, patting him on the neck.

_I hate commands_ , Tug grumbled. _I’m a Ranger_ horse _, not a Ranger apprentice. I shouldn’t have to train._

_“_ Think of it as part of _my_ training, then,” Will told him. He nudged Tug’s shoulder with his left toe, and instantly his horse hesitated in his stride. He seemed to skip a pace and resume his even gait like nothing had happened.

“Good boy,” said Will. “Remind me to find you an apple when we get home.”

_You can count on me_.

They continued that distance-eating lope for nearly half an hour, Will watching in amazement at the world which seemed suddenly so much brighter around him. His horse revelled in the chance to stretch his legs, picking up on his master’s good mood.

Then the wind shifted, and Tug stiffened and slowed, picking up a scent in the air. Will jerked to attention in the saddle, his hand going instinctively for an arrow that was not there. His hand met only empty space where his quiver should have been.

His good mood disappeared like a snowball in a wildfire.

_How_ had he been careless enough to leave his _bow and arrows_ at the cabin?

Will buried his face briefly in his horse’s mane, choking back a sudden tide of self-hatred. _No_ , he thought. _Alyss. Alyss; think of Alyss_. And suddenly, as if mere thought had made her appear, they rounded the bend and there she was: a golden-haired, white-robed figure riding in the midst of her escorts.

Except—

No, Will realized with growing horror, something was wrong. As he watched, Alyss’s horse shied back, forcing her to clutch at his neck. She lashed out with her free arm, and Will caught the glint of steel in her hand. Two of her men-at-arms already lay dead by the roadside. Something had happened: a bandit ambush perhaps, highway robbers looking to make easy work out of a young girl.

He had to help her.

“Tug!” The cry wrenched itself from his throat, a strangled thing lost in the wind, but his horse was already off like a shot, his hooves hardly touching the ground as he rocketed forward, as if sped along by wings.

He trampled the first bandit underfoot and reared on his hind legs, kicking out at his enemies. Will clawed the saxe knife from its sheath and parried a sword slash, feeling like a very small, very under-prepared knight. The stupid feeling of inadequacy rose within him again; he wasn’t sure if he could even take care of herself in this situation, let alone Alyss. Not that she looked like she needed protecting.

Alyss sat astride her horse, her multiple dagger sheaths finally empty, lashing out with a reinforced riding crop. It cracked across the knuckles of a bandit, and he cried out, dropping his sword instinctively. She brained him on the head and ducked deftly around a mace, her horse pirouetting to face the new threat.

Faster than thought, Will drew his throwing knife, burying it in the bandit’s back. He fell with a hoarse cry, the weapon dropping heavily to the ground.

“Will!” she cried, turning toward him. Her features rapidly shifted from shock to amazement to joy, and she lifted a hand, as if in acknowledgement—

Will saw the last bandit coming up behind her, sword raised. “Alyss!” he shouted, knowing he was too late.

She turned, confused, at the same moment the flat of the blade struck her in the head.

As if in slow motion, Alyss crumpled, her features going slack, her hands fumbling the reins. Will saw his own arm draw back and release, saw his saxe knife spinning, light reflecting off the wickedly sharp point, to take the bandit in the chest. He fell at the same moment Alyss did, tumbling out of her saddle.

Will all but leapt from his own horse, concern for her the only thing keeping his own mind at bay. He felt for a pulse with shaking hands, and when he found it, his knees almost gave out as cold relief coursed through him.

And suddenly, he wasn’t kneeling on by Alyss’s side on the road. The world turned white. It was snowing, and desperately cold, and Will knelt over a fellow slave who had just taken a beating, unable to do anything, unable to help—

Something soft bumped his shoulder. Tug made a rumbling sound in the barrel of his chest, and the flashback dissolved like mist in the sunlight. Will found himself next to Alyss again, his horse nuzzling his shoulder. Tears wet his cheeks, and his shoulders were shaking.

He leaned against Tug’s foreleg, still trembling, but the fear was suddenly overwhelmed by self-hatred. _Why did you have to be here? Why did you have to distract her? And why can’t you even help her? Why—why—why_ …

Will screwed up his face against the tide rising against him. With a tremendous force of will, he sent the thoughts crashing back, clearing his mind like Moses parting the Red Sea.

When they were young, Alyss had helped Will up after countless taunts and fights with bullies, with arrogant tutors. Now there was no one, and the bully was inside his own head. But now, somehow, somewhere inside him, he found untapped reservoirs of strength, sources of willpower he didn’t even know he possessed.

Until this moment.

Slowly, painstakingly, Will climbed to his feet. There were no fifes and drums, no celebratory parades, just a boy with tear tracks on his dusty cheeks and one Ranger horse to bear witness.

But to Will, that was enough. It would have to be enough, for now.

“We have to find help,” he said, almost to himself. “But I don’t have a map, or any first-aid, or…” He felt his heart quicken as he started to panic, floundering in a sea of doubt. Then his eyes landed on Alyss’s pale form again, and his thoughts of _I can’t do this_ turned into _I_ have _to do this_.

Will took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. She had offered to be there for him, no matter what. It was time for him to return the favor.

->>\-->

In the end, no other options had come to mind. Tug knelt, and Will lifted Alyss onto his back and climbed on behind her. The journey back to the cabin was a blur, Tug’s hooves drumming up dust as they sped back towards the Tarbus River. Will’s arms ached from holding Alyss so close; his thighs were on fire with the effort of staying on his horse.

Tug slowed to a canter and then a walk as they entered the familiar clearing. Will’s heart felt as if it would stop from relief as he saw the cabin appear through the trees, smoke still rising from its little chimney like nothing had ever happened.

“We need to get her inside,” he said aloud. Using we and hearing the sound of his own voice settled his nerves, if only a little. “And then…”

And then what? Will hadn’t thought quite that far. He thought about going to Castle Redmont, but dispelled the notion as soon as it crossed his mind. Going to the castle meant dealing with guards, with secretaries; people would gossip; Lady Pauline might be there, and Will couldn’t find it in himself to face her. He simply would not be able to deal with the mental exhaustion.

So he would go to the village apothecary and find a healer. Will settled the issue with a firm nod. Yes, he could do that.

Tug knelt again, and Will lifted Alyss into his arms, trying to support her head. He stumbled a pace before righting himself and stepping carefully onto the verandah: she was heavier than he had expected.

“Please be okay,” he whispered. “Please, please, be okay.”

Will eased open the door to the cabin, leaning against the doorframe to adjust his hold on Alyss. His arms screamed with every additional movement, and it was all Will could do to keep his steps slow and even, to keep her as stable as possible.

He set her on his bed and tried to remember if he should elevate her head or not. He settled for a pillow, easing it gently under her. Her gold hair fanned against it like a halo. Will trickled water between her lips and lifted her head again to help her swallow.

Then he turned away, blinking away sudden tears.

“Please be okay,” he repeated, and tore himself away from the room.

Will’s boots scuffed up the wooden floor he’d just swept that morning as he dashed back outside. “Tug!” he called. The little gray horse was nowhere in sight. “Tug, please!”

There was an answering whinny as his horse trotted around the corner of the cabin, saddle still firmly atop his back. Will ran to him, tugged the girth strap back in place, and swung himself up. “Wensley Village,” he said, tapping his heels against Tug’s belly.

His horse rocketed into a gallop from a standstill position, as if he understood his master’s urgency. Will barreled through the street, people jumping out of the way for him as they recognized his gray-and-green cloak streaming behind him like a banner.

They skidded to just as sudden a stop outside the apothecary, jerking Will forward against Tug’s neck. He righted himself and slid off the horse, wincing as his stiff legs protested.

He opened the door with too much force so that it banged against the wall, and he flinched away. The woman inside looked up at him sharply. She sat by the fire, stirring the contents of an iron pot. “Ranger,” she said, her eyes taking in his cloak, lack of weapons, and disheveled hair. “What brings you here?”

“My—my friend,” Will managed. “At the Ranger’s cabin. She got knocked on the head.” He was doing his best to breathe through the mouth, even though it was starting to make him light-headed. Halt had warned him that this apothecary stocked products derived from warmweed, and Will wasn’t about to run the risk of having another flashback.

The woman got to her feet. “I’ll come. Darling,” she added, calling through the back door, “come in and watch the fire for me! Don’t burn yourself, mind!”

“I wasn’t born yesterday!” came the reply. The back door opened, admitting a tall woman with bronze skin. “Go,” she said, looking at Will as well. “I’ll be _fine_.”

Will ducked outside, followed by the first woman, who introduced herself as Meilin. “It’s not every day we get to serve Rangers,” she said with a grin.

“Well, you get to ride a Ranger horse, too,” said Will as Tug trotted over. “We can’t both ride, so I’ll send you on ahead.” He looked at his horse as well when he said the words, wondering if he would have to give her the code. Tug snorted. _I won’t throw her off. Don’t worry_.

Wide-eyed, Meilin climbed into the saddle. “I won’t forget this day in a hurry,” she said. “Thank you, Ranger.”

“No, thank _you_ ,” said Will. Then he turned to Tug. “Go on, boy.” The little horse took care to accelerate at a slower pace this time, giving Meilin time to grab onto the pommel. Will ran after them, folding his cloak over one arm so it wouldn’t slow him down.

When he arrived at the cabin, Meilin was already at Alyss’s bedside, mixing herbs in a small bowl. “How is she?” he asked breathlessly.

“Looks like a simple knock on the head,” she said. “I checked her vitals and they’re normal. Bed rest and fluids for a week ought to fix it, and I’m mixing a tincture to help with possible migraines.”

Will’s knees nearly gave out from relief again. “So she’s fine,” he said.

“Next to perfect,” Meilin agreed, and at the same moment, Alyss stirred, eyelids fluttering. Will was at her side in a flash, hovering uncertainly by the bed.

The healer smiled, getting to her feet. “See, she’s getting back into it now. Just make sure she doesn’t do anything strenuous for the next few days. No horseback riding or combat training or anything like that. She’ll be back to normal in no time.”

“Thank you,” Will said gratefully. “Thank you so much.”

“Oh, it was my pleasure, Ranger.” Meilin dipped in a small curtsy and left.

Alyss stirred again, murmuring something under her breath. Will shushed her instinctively, taking one of her hands in his own. “Everything’s going to be fine,” he whispered, trying to reassure her as much as he was trying to reassure himself. “You’re going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.”

As if she’d heard him, her eyes opened. “Will,” she murmured, her gaze landing on their joined hands. The tenderness in her expression made his heart hurt.

“Alyss,” he managed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I just—just got knocked on the head and fell off my horse,” she retorted weakly.

“The first complete sentence after you wake up is sarcasm,” Will complained. He remembered what Meilin had said about fluids and reached for the pitcher. Water splashed over the sides of the cup as he tried to pour it, and only then did he realize how badly he was shaking. His system was still shot with adrenaline from the morning.

“What else would it be?” Alyss was asking. “Sincerity? Don’t—don’t think so.”

That got a smile out of him, and he realized that was her goal: to make him relax. A burst of gratitude exploded in his chest like a Roman candle.

Unable to think of a proper response, Will said, “Here, drink this.” His hand was miraculously steady as he held out the glass of water.

Alyss tried to sit up, but the effort was too much for her and she sank back into the bed.

“Relax,” said Will, bringing the glass to her lips. “Lie back for me, love.”

Both he and Alyss froze as the words left his mouth. It had seemed so _natural_ , had rolled off his tongue like he’d been saying it his whole life. But what had he been thinking? He couldn’t admit that to her, couldn’t just dump it on her at a time like this.

There was a beat of silence, a silence so palpable that Will could nearly _feel_ it. “I’m so sorry,” he began, unable to bear it.

“So—so you _do_ —” she managed.

“Please, let’s not think about this right now,” he begged. “You’re tired; I’m tired. It’s not a good idea.”

“Will, I have agreed to every boundary you have set,” Alyss said, and there was tempered steel behind the tenderness in her eyes now. “And I have never, _never_ questioned them. But right now, I think this is the closest I’m going to get to an answer; if I wait, your walls will come back up. Am I right?”

Wordlessly, he nodded, looking back at her, and it was like he processed what he was seeing for the first time. This was _Alyss_ , someone he’d known for his entire life; someone who’d helped him see his own self-worth, who had damn near _saved_ his life after Skandia; someone whose faith and humor were a constant in his shaky world.

Someone who Will had thought he’d lost forever, for a few heart-stopping, world-rending moments.

Someone he couldn’t bear to lose, couldn’t bear to push away any longer.

“Then let me in,” she said softly. “Let me help you like you’ve helped me.”

“You know why I can’t,” Will whispered. “I’m—”

“ _You are not broken_ , Will Treaty,” Alyss said fiercely. “Everyone’s a little rough around the edges; everyone has darkness inside them. That’s what makes the beautiful moments in life so valuable. You are _allowed_ to be imperfect and still love and be loved.”

Will realized he was still shaking, but not from adrenaline. Silent sobs wracked his frame, and he bent over in the chair, tugging his shirt up to wipe away tears.

“Thank you,” he choked out. “I— _thank you_.”

Alyss’s eyes were bright with tears too. One fell, tracing a path sideways across her face. Will reached over and dabbed at it with the hem of his cloak, and they both managed a weak laugh.

“Don’t thank me,” she whispered. “Thank yourself, for being so damn strong, for fighting long enough to get here in the first place. But from now on, it doesn’t just have to be you, don’t you see?” The sheets rustled as she rolled over, facing him, eyes tracing the lines of his face. “We can do this together, Will.”

“Together,” he whispered.

_The world knows you deserve to be happy_.

Maybe it _could_ be that simple.

**Author's Note:**

> I consider this and my other Wilyss fic (voice) to occur independently of one another, but I suppose it could go either way.  
> If I incorrectly depicted trauma or anything else, please let me know!
> 
> For the wonderful @TheButterflyRanger as part of the One Riot Discord NY Exchange <3


End file.
